Just Another Manic Monday

It's Monday, but not manic.  :)

We try not to do manic here.  The kiddos are entrenched in the assignments and studies of the day.  I am getting ready to power down the laptop and power up my arms and legs and brain.  There are writing assignments to edit, spelling rules to reinforce, history lessons to read, math the check (and then re-check)... you get the picture.  There is laundry, toilets, counters, floors, etc. to be cleaned.  There is a multitude of paper work and books needing attention.  There are appointments to be made.

It's just stuff.... not worth putting into words, but since I don't facebook, I thought I'd share mundane, needless, personal details right here!  

Ha!

But the real reason for posting this morning is to count my gifts.... out loud.  :)

~ the friends and family that have loved on my mama during this time of uncertainty and trial.*

~ a pumpkin candle that really does make the whole kitchen smell like pumpkin

~ sickness that is short-lived, but long enough to remind me how blessed we are

~ being absolutely certain of what I do NOT want to do

~ the way He woos me to Himself, when.... why should He?

~ a new church.... maybe not THE church, but a place where we are learning about...

~ the possibility of being in missional community with others

~ what it might look like to focus outwardly

~ how the Holy Spirit can show up even if the music is way too loud

~ how beauty on the inside SO determines what is seen from the outside

~ how you can ride that truth in a lot of different directions all to the same great end

~ God's imagination

~ figuring out what's worthwhile 

~ figuring out what's not

~ knowing all the figuring comes from Him:  Thank You Lord!!!

~ how counting blessings nurtures contentment

~ how that is an awesome universal truth

~ Jesus, the Source of all truth

~ the privilege of showing others all of the above

~ how we can't be good at everything, but at just a few

~ how knowing this simplifies so much

** Please continue to pray for my mama.  We discovered her cancer is stage III.   She will begin chemo in a few weeks, most likely.  Please pray with us for complete healing, and that she will find the Lord faithful to meet her every need.  

Hard Eucharisteo

sometimes life is a pile of salt washed drift wood

and there is no order

or sense in it

and it's a mess

and sometimes you are like a tree

weathered, worn and broken

planted by still waters....

not so much

and sometimes, with sun obscure

you are standing in the grey

and there's not much left to do

but embrace the wood

of another kind of tree

sometimes that's just how it is

Counting with the community of the grateful:

~  understanding that knowing the truth and hurting is better than being the fool

~  finishing the little orange book

~  the admonition, blessing and encouragement we received from it

~  not knowing much, but knowing Him, and how that really is enough

~  the pain that comes from the loss of something that brought great joy

~  watching how one who is loved well, loves well

~  the healing that brings, like a balm on a burn

~  sending off dear ones

~  the adventurous journey ahead of them

~  the emptiness the leaving causes only because of the fullness their presence meant

~  how life was good with them

~  how they are gifts

~  how it's hard, but we are thankful, because who are we to say, 'it's bad', so

~  we count it as good

Ahhhhhh.........

Garage Sale Weekend is now behind us.  MUCH has left this household for good.  Windows have been washed, floors mopped, furniture polished.  Order restored and then some.  It's a good feeling.  No, it's a GREAT feeling.
I am not one to function at optimal capacity in the midst of disorder.  Even if the disorder is relegated to the closets and drawers, it mocks me from those pent up places.  I hear it call my name and it becomes the itch I can't quite reach.  I don't like this about myself.  It's a weakness, really.  Life is messy, and we need to learn to not be distracted by that fact.

In my frenzy to declutter, simplify, and restore order I learned some things:

1.  We have too much stuff.

2.  Garage sales don't make you money.

3.  They do make you crazy.

4.  They are a great reminder of how awful it is to have too much stuff.

5.  Simplicity (which in my mind includes organization) is a lifestyle, not a once a year or so event.

6.  I don't want to waste one fleeting moment with my children (this reminder came as I wept over little, tiny clothes they used to wear and the remembering that goes with the sorting and weeding and the realization of number 7......).

7.  Time flies.

8.  I love that we still play with toys in our house.

9.  I need a system to stay balanced.... I'm a system-needer.

10.  It needs to be simple (read:  NOT flylady)

11.  Less is more.... in a BIG way.

So, there it is.  I totally recommend this kind of deep cleaning/purging.  There is a lot more I learned from it, but some of it's personal and I won't bore you.  Suffice it to say... it's worth it and makes for some cheap, but highly effective therapy!  :)

And now getting on with giving thanks:

~the canopy of green surrounding the back of the house filling with bird and other creatures

~the ultra muzzle for a pup too anxious to protect his peeps

~having what I need and knowing where it's at

~God stoking a fire

~toaster

~free musicals

~my precious and words-can't-describe-how-awesome husband

~how the Lord leads us and makes us of one mind

~how he submits and I submit and we submit to Him and to each other, and...

~how nobody but the Lord taught us how to do that, and

~how that is a gift I do not take for granted

~being called into something bigger than we can figure out

~knowing we can trust Him

Meet Sarah Grace, Age 10

Ten years ago today, I birthed this beautiful girl into the world.

She lights up a room with her nose- crinkling, freckle-faced smile and auburn hair.

She's grown out of her pudginess and no longer looks down upon her peers.

She's small in stature, but a scrapper none-the-less.  

She likes to dress like a twin to her best friend, string beads, make sketches and any other art she can figure.

She writes praise songs, poems and stories.

She sometimes tries to sneak out of the house with eye shadow on.

She loves putting an outfit together.

She doesn't brush her hair everyday.

She's calls her daddy "Daddy-O" and "Daddy-Doo".

Sometimes she misspells her brother's name.

She has a heart for neighborhood missions.

She likes all kinds of music.

She climbs trees, kisses her puppy, digs up worms and bugs (and names them), and has to wash her feet when she comes in from outside.

She likes playing basketball and softball and swimming.

She wants to be a pitcher.

She likes looking after little kids.

She named her Venus Fly Trap Petey, and planted her ladybug house in the rose garden.

She buried her deceased Praying Mantis, P-Man, in her brother's potted dwarf spruce.

She's funny and does great British and Texan accents.

She wants to learn to sew and open an Etsy store with her BFF.

She wants to raise chickens and goats and have fruit trees.

She wants a little brother or sister.

She's touchy-feel-y.

She cries when one of her bugs die.

She's not an open book.

She is easy to be with.

She's girlie, but not prissy.

Blue is her favorite color.

She doesn't care if she has to use  boys' stuff or second-hand.

She's not particular.

She's a good eater.

She likes to cook.

She sleeps with mama most mornings.

She's right brained.

She makes great art and does math slow.

She's a whole lot wrapped up in a little package.

Today she is ten.

Happy Birthday Peachy Peach!

And counting my blessings with Ann and the others:

a fantabulous weekend of warm weather and sunny blue skies

an equally beautiful day for Peachy's B-day

having lunch with friends in the warm open air

dreams of summer expeditions

Toby acting like a good dog

how sickness makes you slow down

a yummy meal from a sweet, precious friend

yard work with my love

a slice of raspberry vanilla cake specially delivered to my kitchen by a sweet little baker-girl

the upcoming garage sale that will make the dream of purging a reality

the friend that went to the trouble to arrange it

stories from my nine year old that now is ten

the non-stop chatter of my sweet boy

hearing my sisters voice on the other end of the line

When I Want to Break Away

There is a restlessness around here.  I hate it because it's the antithesis of contentment.  Contentment with godliness is great gain.... I believe it.  I know it to be true.  But what do you do when it slips from your grasp?

Two things I do.  Remember I am not made for this world.  It cannot satisfy my longings.  It will never be enough.  Grasping for more of it does not get me closer to any arrival.  In Kingdom speak:  this is not my home.  I'm here on assignment and I'm a gypsy.  To try to shed my cloak of otherworldly oddity would not only be futile, but very disappointing.   Because, underneath the cloak, I'm still a gypsy.  This place doesn't have what I'm looking for.  No need to pretend it does.

But then, sometimes it does have what I am looking for.  When I look for Him, I can find Him.  Even here.
He is here.  He is here on assignment, too.  I'm part of His clan, and He gives His own special powers.... yes supernaturally special powers.  And so the second thing I do in my restlessness?

By His power I see, hear, taste and know.

Ears to hear and eyes to see--both are gifts from the LORD. Proverbs 20:12 Taste and see that the Lord is good. Psalm 34:8A and    more counting: Good Friday worship all in black... falling out of sight, out of notice for the cross set before us with roses red hammered violent into the rough wood like the Rose of Sharon and there we received body and blood and we remembered as the hammer fell,  we remembered so we will not forget warmth out-of-doors sun on skin shoulders dropping short sleeves kids playing... really playing  a screen-less day home-made chili and cornbread made by 9 year old hands Coach Ally at dinner, because the boy and girl invited her to come and she did sharing Easter lunch at Famous Dave's with friends congregating at a park with friends, kids and dogs friendly chats with strangers sitting at table communing with good friends 'leftover friends':  friends you can eat left-overs with sharing troubles, thoughts, dreams and possibilities cross and candle put away but not forgotten yellow tulips on the table the boy baking brownies living resurrection life because we can because He did. He is Risen Indeed!

Counting Blessings

This is a habit I can't give up.... a habit worth time and effort and thoughtfulness.  Counting my blessings bows me low at the feet of Mercy, it quiets any cacophony, and releases his healing power into my most broken places.
It's a habit I cannot give up.

sunlight streaming through windows

the smell, texture and sight of lemons

used book stores

gentle answers

friends and food at the table

eyes and ears to people watch

leftovers

my husband, Oh my husband!

kids waving palm branches

kids singing His praises

lying in fresh linens

bedtime reading

simplification

the beginning of Holy Week

Man of Sorrows

Prince of Peace

Savior 

Radical Is as Radical Does

In my small corner of the world my friends and I are reading Radical by David Platt.  We sit at Sunday's table with Orange bound books and our myriad of Bible translations.... reading and re-reading passages of scripture, making confession as we go.   As we probe deeper, we nervously exchange glances with each other... the wind in our sails exhaled, we are all waiting for one of us to say it ... to let us all off the hook.. "it doesn't really mean what he says it means".  But no one does.  One sister fidgets in her seat, while a brother grimaces,  looking down at his fingers smoothing the pages of his well worn Bible.  I glance at the clock and reach for my paper cup of free-trade coffee gone cold.  Luke-warm bitterness that should've been hot.  Huh.  I'm reminded of someone.  I make my confession.  I really didn't know I had lived so many years on the wrong side of a paradigm shift.

"So you cannot be my disciple without giving up everything you own"    - Jesus I've read that before.  I've read it and went on to chase my material dreams.  I've loved Jesus most of my life... really loved Him.  Somehow I thought sacrifice was washing dishes, folding laundry and schooling little minds.  I was sacrificing b/c after all, I couldn't just go out to lunch or coffee on a whim, like some of my friends could.  Somehow, I confused the freedom to manage my own time, and spend hours each day with my family, and sit on my overstuffed couch, and walk my dog through my upper-middle-class neighborhood, and worship in community within a mile of my house, and drink free-trade coffee out of paper cups as sacrifice. I am reminded of the anti-drug commercial... the one with the egg.... "this is your brain", and then the fried egg.... "this is your brain on drugs".  And I think my brain is fried.  Really.  I picture a plate of scrambled eggs.... "this is your brain on stuff". How is it possible to have read Jesus' words as many times as I have and still be so clueless?  Some might read that question and think,... "well, she must not really know Jesus", as they ponder my words from their own La-Z-Boy recliner. And then..... maybe someone else will read those words... someone who 'gets it' like I haven't.... and say, "I'm going to pray for her and her friends". I do love Jesus and I do not know what I'm going to do about it.  But I know there is no condemnation in Christ.... I don't know what being faithful will look like tomorrow.... only what it is right now. If your curiosity is piqued... please go google some people like David Platt, Francis Chan, Katie Davis, Ken Wystma.... a few names out of many who are learning that radical is as radical does. But make sure you're really interested.... maybe ready is more like it.  It's a dangerous thing to hear the truth and shrug your shoulders and decide to do nothing.  Maybe I'm wrong, but I think it'd be better to be ignorant. And if you are reading this and you are further along in your following-Jesus- journey than I am.... will you pray for me and my friends?   We really need it. And now counting from my abundance of blessings..... the sight of my children's heads bobbing as they run off to basketball practice every morning I wake to a day to be spent with them the kiss I get from my love each morning finally learning the purpose of fitness water listening to the heart of my Persian friend him sharing so openly understanding him better Wednesday mornings with Patti His grace in my failure His mercy a new friend on Sunday providentially finding us?

Monday Morning Quarterback

Today, I'm the Monday Morning Quarterback... calling the plays from the weekend as they should have been,  not necessarily as they were.  It's easy to see in hindsight what you would have done differently.  It's another thing altogether to live each moment to Him, and with no regret.  

How is it we can make such mountains out of molehills, and yet the places most in need of our consideration lay fallow?  

Fallow ground waiting for seeds of life.  It takes intentionality and discipline to grow a garden of fruit.  Conversely, a patch of weeds needs little more than looking the other way.  

And so yesterday I sang a song about Jesus taking the wheel.  

Pastor preached about addictions and bitter roots....

of which I thought I had none....

but maybe...

there are some.

Yet, even before he preached it

I knew He would preach to me.

Even before I sang it, 

I knew the song was for me.

"Jesus, take the wheel

take it from my hands

cause I can't do this on my own

I'm letting go

so give me one more chance

save me from this road I'm on"

And isn't this the anthem for us all?

What a day it is, when we wake up and realize that the sermon is for us, and that Jesus, in His Word.... He is speaking to us, 

not someone else.

He speaks to me about my need.

Why would He concern me with someone else's?

So, Jesus take the wheel.

Not from her or him or them....

from me.

And I'm thankful for:

sickness that doesn't last, but gives way to

health

simplicity

scripture

prayers being heard

story times

minds learning

healing

friends to wrestle with the hard truths of scripture 

how scripture is so powerful to shape us, and even our hopes for the future

how the Hold Spirit meets our every need, not in a far-off-in-the-clouds way, but

indwelling us, bringing us the salve, the instruction, the wisdom to the very core of where we need it and in every moment of our need.

how that is amazing

With small voice

These last weeks have brought with them a hurricane of thought and conviction... even some worry and dread.  Oh, we are fine.  Physically we have more than we can use or need.  But burden's transport travels in more than one direction.
So with small and quiet voice today, because I'm tired, here is some of the "much" that we have to be thankful for:

my sweet mother's birthday

a chance to celebrate His good work

a new friend taking me under her wing

how nice it is to be under someone's wing

how He is always there, even in the midst of confusion

growing children

hope for today

hope for tomorrow

that, yes, His grace is sufficient.

It's late... but not too late to celebrate!

What a wonderful world!  Truly.  We are so very blessed by the amazing creation all around us.  Even in the deadness of winter, His heart sings to us.... even in the silent stillness of cold night falling in early hours.

I have been reflecting on 2011:  The Year of Practice for me.  Ann Voskamp writes of do-overs.  Yes, I suppose I could use a do-over... if that's the way it worked.  But she and I both know, that isn't how it's intended to be.  Perfection isn't expected on this side of things.... at least not as it relates to the high ideals of communion, thanksgiving, intentionality, and yes... even practice.  We can perfect our execution of a math equation, we don't perfect our soul.  That is squarely His territory.  So I will continue to "practice" as I set out in 2011 to practice such things as kindness and thoughtfulness and prayerfulness.  But as themes go, it's time to move on.

Here, in 2012, my family and I are going to give some intentional thought and consideration to what and how we create.  We do so much of this without even really thinking about it.  I wonder what will happen if we slow down and pay some better attention to detail.  What might it be like to dream up a vision of something and teach our head and hands how to make it reality?  I'll confess that, in part, this idea was born out of my own struggle with and journey toward finding and celebrating true beauty.  I see and hear SO many conflicting messages about beauty.  I have heard countless victims (mostly female) of our current youth culture bemoan the fact that they are "less than", "not enough", "too fat, too light, too dark, too short, too tall, too freckled, too wrinkled, too pimpled, too stringy, too frumpy...."  just too much of all the wrong things and so they are just simply... not enough.

How this saddens me.  And I've been there.... I've lived in that place of "not enough".  I know whereof I speak, so I can't be fooled.  Everyone gets their wake-up call in a different time and place.  For me, it has come with having children and wanting more for them than I used to accept for myself.  What I now know about my value in Christ... I want them to know now.   Self-loathing is the stuff of fools.  It's the easy trap of our enemy and we foolishly take the bait.  There is no upside to it.  It is.... an....utter... waste of time.  The learning doesn't come in the loathing.  It comes in the waking up.
 The devil is no teacher, my friends.

So why a Year to Create?  Because it is about how we reflect our Creator, the Beautiful One.  What will happen when we are more about what we produce, than what we consume?  More about what we give than what we take?

My hypothesis is that there is life and living and fruitfulness in this.  I invite you to come over to our family's new blog:  Imagination Nexus.  Just click the button below and take some time to see, will you join us this year?


l"/>


And now, counting with Ann and the Gratitude Community:

Shopping dates with my love

Lights, lights, lights!

My daddy singing at the table

holding his hand in church

his prayers and exhortations

My mom cooking with me

the way we laugh together

her reading to us from this book.

Being together.

The house at night

calls from sisters

birthday fun

middle-eastern food

Persian friends

a friend who loves at all times

a taste of liberation

This message of not one resolution, but 10,000 instead

and how that fits... just right.

Counting Gifts

Like most folks, we've been busy this time of year.  Fun busy.  And though I am tempted to go on about this day, I will pause long enough to reflect here on a few of the many gifts from the passing of these days.

Our boy and girl the night of their Christmas concert at Our Lady of the Lake

how grown and handsome looking he was

seeing him do well at something I didn't even think he would try

her focus and her joy and her sparkle

My love coming up with a Stay-cation list for us

his planning and driving and doing and smiling

the Christmas wonderland at the Grotto's Festival of Lights

the gospel gently spoken through speakers along

paths lit with luminaries

hundreds of thousands of twinkling lights

nativity

candles representing lifted prayers

the aromas of barnyard animals and churros y chocolate

the decorum and reverence of a Catholic chapel

evangelical indeed

My love calling this Christmas his favorite

our littles stating, 'but Christmas isn't here yet"

he and I saying, "ah, but it's advent"

Christmas is here

the joy in giving

the anticipation of this advent week

I won't reinvent the wheel...

and neither will you.

I gave thanks for this fact last week.  A brother asked for the back-story, and you know I'm happy to oblige, so...

I read a lot and contemplate even more.  I read the stuff of thinkers, contemplators like me.  People like us  think we're going to stumble upon some great secret of the universe, secrets we are, of course, morally bound to share with the commonality.
These so enlightened have written the books that teach all things from 'new math' to how to listen to music or look at art.  They teach there's a right way to feed a baby, organize a closet, eat food (or not eat it), love your familiy and be nice to strangers.  If you read them, and really get them, you'll be happier, smarter and more generous.
Yeah, everyone's after a formula for perfection, and just as many are happy to sell one.

I always read with an open mind but, not being one to fall for snake oil, I never worried about being unduly influenced.  I figure it's likely someone has unlocked some truth in a way I haven't.  But lately, I've been unlocking another kind of truth... at least as it pertains to all that is really true,  it's all been said before.  All this stuff I read.  It's not dejavu, it's not that I'm smart, it's that Someone Else already figured it out and wrote it down, or passed it along some other way.  We've all been beaten to the punch, we thinkers.

Turns out if you want to be good at math, you have to do math.  Wanna be a great piano player?  Practice makes perfect, yes it does, and lots of it.  It's easier to keep stuff in order if you have less stuff to keep in order.  If you eat too much, you'll get fat... especially stuff like Twinkies.  God didn't make Twinkies.  Babies need to eat and it's good to hold them.  We don't need a lot of stuff to be happy.  We should give more than we do.
 What's worth doing is hard to do, and it only gets done by doing it.

And then there's this:
"whoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgement"
"whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery"
"let your 'Yes' be 'Yes', and your 'No', 'No'.  For whatever is more than these is from the evil one."
"if anyone wants to sue you and take away your tunic, let him have your cloak also."
"give to him who asks you , and from him who wants to borrow form you do not turn away."
"love your enemies"
"do good to those that hate you"
"when you do a charitable deed, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing"
"when you pray go into your room, and when you shut your door, pray to your Father... in secret"
"if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you"
"when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face"
"where your treasure is there your heart will be"
"no one can serve two masters"
"do not worry about your life"
"do not worry about tomorrow"
"judge not"
"narrow is the gate"
"difficult is the way"
"every good tree bears good fruit"

The words in red.  There's more where that came from, I just gave a sampling.  If I read the red...

What more is there, really?

Someone invented the wheel.  It's perfectly round with perfect spokes.  It's.... perfection.  It cannot be improved upon.  We can talk about that wheel, sure, but it's not in need of any re-design.  It's fine to use new words to talk about that wheel, so long as the new words are, in fact, describing the wheel.  A wheel is a wheel.  It gets reproduced yes, but not reinvented.  As long as it's made from the original design and model, it'll roll.
So that's the story.  Radical?  Yes.  New?
Not a chance.

and still counting in the thousands...

free, simple devotional thoughts and prayers

kids learning the discipline of devotion

the only tangible connection I have to my aunt

remembering when she made it and gave it to me
wondering if I can do like she did

potential

an old habit, new to him

flickering white gold

best seat in the house

oh, how it does... 

love does

school on Sunday, but not Sunday School

learning together

reinventing?  no, but inspiring, yes!

Thank You Lord for this and so, so much more.  Thank You, O Magnificent One, Creator of all, our great and wonderful Inventor!

Bless This Mess

I've been one to pride myself on a well-kept home.  I like shiny sinks and floors and dusted baseboards.  Clutter makes me nervous and agitated.... ok, maybe it doesn't make me that way, but that's how I feel when I am in the midst of it.
While I have never white-glove tested anyone's home, I've certainly passed my fair share of judgement on the housekeeping skills of others.  Somehow along the way I've developed this weird way of thinking that the best kind of house is the kind that looks like no one lives in it!  Where all the personal 'messes' of it's inhabitants are well hidden from public view.  You can know me, but not by my mess.
I don't know why.
  I could psychoanalyze it and say it has something do with poor self-esteem or unrealized self-actualization or some other nonsense, but I think I'll leave the 'why' alone.  Actually I am under the care of an awesome Doctor.... a Great Physician.  He takes care of the why... or I guess you could say He took care of it a long time ago.  So I have a sickness, yes, but He's got me on the best treatment plan.  In fact, His cure-rate is 100%.

Living, real living, is messy.  He shapes, kneads, sculpts.... chisels us with His hands..... He does this with our lives, by His hands, and it is messy.
But what a beautiful mess.
It turns out the Great Doctor is a Master Craftsman as well.  An artist like no other.
In our lifetimes we will discover, through His unveiling, the most amazing treasures.

I've been thinking about this, these past few weeks.  I'm starting to see things differently.  Did you know jelly jars make the best bug catchers?  Stair landings are perfect places to proudly display legos.  Kitchen counters are the best place to line with fresh ripening harvest.  Collected leaves make great centerpieces. Stacks of music and piano benches askew beckon merry music makers.  Muddy footprints on not-so-shiny floors remind us of latest travels and seasons changed.
Yes, I'm starting to see things differently, and I don't want to trade any more minutes, that belong to creating, for cleaning.

And now counting in the thousands.....

pumpkin creations made with small hands

a beautiful mess with purpose, always there's a purpose...

sister, brother, tape, paper and markers

signs of life

a generous gift, a happy memory, an inspiration

a WELL WORTH IT read

what duty looks like

the barely there,  outdoorsy puppy-ish scent I smell when I kiss the top of his muzzle between his eyes

watching my girl do math

my boy's fingers dancing up and down the keyboard with skill I've only ever dreamed of having

my love finding an Italian chess board treasure at a yard sale

the many games played on it

the memory of my girl perched on the kitchen counter with pumpkin propped between her knees as she carefully carved the details of her canine creation

harvesting, rinsing, salting, roasting pumpkin seeds

my love spoiling me with decadent treats

him being generous with hugs and kisses

how we so often think the same thought,

fold our hands the same way

how we make tradition together

how he does his fathering

long walks on cold, sunny mornings

light showers filtered through afternoon sun

a brother on the mend

family meetings on skype

finding answers in the Word

Jesus' words

how they are printed red in my Bible

how that visual speaks so, so much to me

a new lesson I learned about reinventing the wheel....

don't.

1,002 and counting

I am thankful for streams of consciousness that sift through the wrong to find the Right

I am thankful that as the Bride changes, her Husband never will.

I am thankful to wake in happy contentment from sweet dreams that echo my waking reality

I am thankful that one of my first stops this morning was here

I am thankful that she sees what I need to, 

and she helps me to see it too